Just a short one-shot I thought of at work this morning at 6am! Enjoy!
Hatred or Disappointment?
Pure unadulterated hatred or complete and utter disappointment. Tell me, which one is worse?
If you would have asked me that last year I would have said disappointment but sitting in the corner of this hospital bed, with the woman I love staring blankly out the window with tears down her cheeks I can honestly say that hatred is worse. Disappointment I have lived with most of my life but hatred? I have never stayed in one place long enough for someone to care about me enough to hate me.
Wondering why I'm not holding her as she cries if she is the woman I love? Oh that's easy, she is crying because of me. She won't talk to me, look at me and doesn't want anything to do with me and yet here I sit just so I know that she is safe.
She left the hospital with only a single sentence spoken to me. Something that I think will keep me up for weeks at a time, hating myself as much as she hates me. "I hate you."
It was plane and simple and to the point. Olivia never showed much emotion towards anyone but to hear her say those three words and walk away, back turned never to look back, with Broyles to lean on, my heart broke. A million pieces that would never be able to find their way back to a whole.
Two weeks had passed and the hatred only grew and the worst part is that most of the time it wasn't outwardly shown. There were times and moments where Olivia would say something harsh or raise her voice when there were other people around, mostly Astrid or Walter but more often than not it would be the cold shoulder or the glares. She was holding it in and part of me wished she would just yell and scream and hit me to make herself feel better because holding in anger is never a good thing.
After the third week the disappointment had lessened but the anger was still strong. I would watch her from the lab, running a hand through her hair or dropping her face into her hands. She was tired, she hadn't slept and I could tell, but she wouldn't let me anywhere near her.
After week number four, Olivia was able to look at me once again. She had started talking to talk to me more and sitting closer to me. The disappointment was gone but small amounts of anger still shone behind her eyes although she tried so hard not to show it.
Then after a case that left me with a broken arm and everyone thinking I was dead, it was well into week six of Olivia being back. She turned to me in the car before turning the engine on. "I still hate you." Her look was intense and my stomach dropped. I watched her hand reach over and entwine her fingers with mine. I watched her for a moment before slowly bringing her hand to my mouth and kissing the top gently. We drove in silence but our hands never left each other.
By the second month, I was practically living with Olivia and it felt right. Some days I would hate myself others Olivia would be disappointed in me but we are stronger for it now.
Hatred or disappointment…which one is worse?
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